


URO

by drowningalaska



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Shameless, Smut, Valentine's Day, marry me Allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 06:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20830559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowningalaska/pseuds/drowningalaska
Summary: A song fic? A song fic.Forgiveness is a hot tear on your cheek in the pouring rain.





	URO

**I tell myself you don’t mean a thing,**

**And what we got, got no hold on me**

  
  


It’s been six days since you last saw him, standing open mouthed and slack jawed across the precinct as you sat perched on Gavin’s desk. 

With Gavin and Hank beside you you’re more than aware that he won’t approach you, and you’re too proud to acknowledge his presence. If you look at him, you’ll crumple, and it costs you all you have to laugh along with whatever Hank has said.    
He walks away, after a few moments, and you swear a part of you leaves the room with him.   
Sagging forward, you put your coffee cup down on the desk and brace yourself with both arms, holding a lung full of air as you remind yourself that  _ you _ left  _ him _ , not the other way around.    
Gavin looks at you with pity, and it takes everything you have to meet his eyes and shrug as if you don’t really care.    
  
_ You do. _

**But when you’re not there, I just crumble**

**I tell myself I don’t care that much**

  
  


It’s been two weeks since you last touched him, peeling his hand off your arm in order to escape his grasp after he’d cornered you just outside the elevator doors. The skin on your chest stings where you dug your nails into your flesh once you were safely in the elevator.    
Desperation is evident in his voice as the doors close before he can reach you. “Please!!”   
Hand across your heart to keep you from collapsing in on yourself.    
  
You hit the stop button and choke out a shuddering gasp, the sound of your thundering pulse drowns out the music playing in the background as you try in vain to put yourself back together enough to go back to work.    
You change your floor selection, heading up to the precinct roof instead of your desk, standing next to Gavin as he smokes and gazes out over the city.    
You take a cigarette when he offers, smoking it right down to the butt despite the fact it makes your lungs burn. 

  
The expression on Allen’s face lingers with you for days, and you ruin two samples at a homicide two days later as your hands shake and tremble.    
  


**But I feel like I die ‘til I feel your touch**

**Only love, only love can hurt like this**

  
  


It’s been three months since you left him.    
  
The day before you’d been out on a lunch date in a local park, wandering about with coffee and discussing moving in with him in the next couple weeks when you’d encountered his ex, who introduced herself as Aubrey before pulling David in for a hug.

Gritting your teeth as she’d wrapped her fingers around David’s arm and unabashedly flirted with the love of your life  _ in front of you,  _ it was fifteen minutes before she moved on and left you alone.   
  


_ It was like you weren’t even there.  _

Dave hadn’t said a word of protest, and her snakelike grin had lingered with you all day afterwards. 

Later that night you’d planned to surprise him at Jimmy’s after work where he was drinking with his team, but you hadn’t even made it to the door when you saw them.   
  


In a booth that faced towards the wide window at the front sat David Allen and the woman from earlier, her long fingers clenched tightly into the fabric of his jacket as she leans forward and pressed her lips against his. 

Flames licked your insides, boiling and frothing inside you until you thought you would pass out and  _ die _ , standing outside the bar like a fool.    
  


You hadn’t even bothered going in after that, spinning on your heel, barely around the corner before you break into a run. You run for so long you end up in a part of town you don’t know, and slide down the front window of a laundromat into a heap on the floor, swallowing bile as your tears leave hot tracks down your cheeks.   
A week off work for a family emergency that didn’t exist, and you’d still be on the shower floor if you hadn’t had to meet the locksmith at 7.30AM the next morning.

  
  


**Only love can hurt like this ** **   
** **Must have been a deadly kiss **

  
  


Allen damn near caves the door in with his relentless pounding.   
He’s come to see why you won’t answer his calls, but you’re not about to answer the door, either.    
You sit slumped at your kitchen bench, a tumbler full of whiskey pressed against your temple as you watch the door shake on its hinges.    
“Please baby, come on,'' the sound of his head banging against the door breaks you out of your stare, and you push away from the counter and head into the bathroom. 

After two days Connor comes knocking, and when you slam the door in his face he sends the only friend you have that can’t be kept away by your rage. 

Gavin pushes his way in and forces you backwards, frowns as he thrusts a box of thai takeaway into your hands and saunters over to your couch before patting the cushion next to him.   
It takes him all day to coax the truth from your lips, and you allow him to force you to eat and shower. You take yourself to bed, nude, hoping that the awkwardness of seeing you undressed will get him to  _ leave _ , but it doesn’t.    
Gavin spends the night on your couch, and leaves before you drag yourself from bed.   
He’s left a plate of food on the bench, two metres of cling wrap wrapped around it. 

The bacon and eggs are stone cold as you eat it with your hands.

( it’s a week before you look him in the eyes ) 

  
  


**Only love can hurt like this**

**Only love can hurt like this**

  
  


Honestly? It’s not getting any better. 

At first you had thought that the feeling of having your chest caved in would dissipate, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s gotten worse.   
  
He had asked you to move in not even a week beforehand, and you spend your spare time putting all your belongings back onto the shelves where they belong.    
Your phone buzzes against your kitchen countertop almost constantly, and it’s a weight off your chest when the battery  _ finally  _ dies. 

You have no intention of charging it again. 

Within a couple minutes of you being back at work he comes barrelling into your office, and you give the best performance of your life pretending that you’re okay as you discuss being back at work with Fowler.    
You don’t meet his eyes as you let yourself out of Fowler’s office, acknowledging him only after he touches you gently on the spine as you brush past him.    
Spinning on your heel, you fix him in place with a glare, anger rolling through your gut in tight, sickening waves.    
  
Allen’s brow furrows, “What! What the fuck is going on here?”   
The smile that blooms across your face is predatory, and you feel a piece of your dignity slide back into place as you answer him before pulling away, the skin where he touched you singing out for him.   
The opportunity to hurt him is too delicious to pass up, despite the empty feeling you get from doing it.    
  
“Had fun at the bar on Friday, huh?”    
  
The flash of understanding and fear across his face is the only reason you manage to  _ sleep _ that night.    
  


**Say I wouldn’t care if you walked away**

**But every time you’re there I’m begging you to stay **

  
  


You pull your bag out of the locker, slip your jacket off the hook screwed to the side and let the door close with an exhausted  _ thunk _ .

A jerky swipe of your ID card and you make your way out of the entryway and into the office space.   
The plan is to meet Tina and Gavin at the bar for a couple drinks after work, and after the stress of avoiding your ex lover all morning they’re a couple drinks you could really use. 

Your eyes slide over to the booth you saw Allen at a week ago, and without much thought you find yourself drawn over towards it, the occupants looking up at you with confusion before one of the men winks at you salaciously.    
This isn’t the type of place to meet anyone worth knowing, and after a couple more rounds you allow him to lead you towards the bathrooms at the back.    
  
His hands are all over you, and he doesn’t care about the tears that are on your face as he presses his tongue into your mouth. The taste of stale cigarettes and sweet chasers invade your mouth with his tongue, the flavour turning your stomach, and you tilt your mouth away from his reach, staring up toward the ceiling.    
Clumsy fingers try to undo the top button of your jeans, and  _ you can’t do this,  _ it’s not  _ him. _

Your hands push uselessly against his chest, but he’s relentless, teeth biting too hard into the skin of your jaw.    
  
You stumble forward as he’s pulled off you, Gavin’s fist connecting with his jaw with a resounding  _ crunch _ . 

  
  


**When you come close I just tremble ** **   
** **And every time, every time you go**

  
  


It had all started after a late night at the precinct, you’d been working back with Connor after the revolution, and needed to ferry some gear and paperwork back downstairs to the SWAT department.    
One conversation topic had led to another once you’d run into him outside his office, and somehow you’d ended up on his desk, one of his large hands around your throat as he fucked up into you.    
  


Despite both of you claiming it was all a by-product of stress and pent up workplace aggression, you’d continued to meet up around the station, eventually agreeing to meet him at his place one evening after work.    
Workplace fucks and booty calls had culminated in overnight stays and breakfast the next day, neither one of you mentioning the strange turn of events. 

The first time you’d suggested going steady Allen had been silent, using your break to the toilet as an escape route. He’d ignored you for two days before turning up on your doorstep, taking your face between his two hands almost reverently.    
  
“You’re  _ mine _ ” gets lost between the soft slide of your mouths.

  
  


**It’s like a knife that cuts right through my soul**

  
  


His belongings are littered throughout your apartment, clothing in your drawers and the smell of his cologne still lingers in the fabric of your couch. 

One of these days you hope you’ll be able to bring yourself to pack it all up, you could even use the same boxes that you were going to use to move into his house. It’s ironic, you think, and fitting.    
  


Some mornings you catch yourself pulling out his favourite mug, and today is just the same.    
  
You pull his mug out of the cupboard with your own, only noticing what you’ve done after tipping a spoonful of coffee into it. Gripping the handle tightly in your right hand, your upper lip curls up in a snarl before you fling it heavily across your kitchen and onto the floor, watching as the black porcelain explodes against the face of your cupboards.    
The broken pieces keep you captivated until it’s time for you to leave for work, only scooping them up for the bin after one nicks the edge of your foot later that night. 

  
  


**Your kisses burning to my skin**

**Only love can hurt like this **

  
  


It’s your birthday today, the inside of the DPD is covered in streamers and multi coloured balloons. A wonky pink cake is perched on the break room table, a replica from one of your favourite vintage movies, ‘HAPPEE BIRTHDAE’ in lime green across the top.    
  
Everyone you work with gathers around you to sing the expected cheesy song, and as you lean forward to blow out the little candles you catch David’s eyes from across the table, his perfect lips already mouthing silent words to you.   
  
“ _ I’m so sorry.” _ __   
  


It’s too public a place to make a scene, so you nod your head gently, using the big breath as you blow out the candles to release the tension across your back. Surprisingly, it doesn’t return once you stand up straight.    
When you look back across the table to motion Allen aside, he’s gone.    
Heart clenching, you wish you’d mouthed the words you wanted to say back to him.    
  
_ I love you.  _ __   
  


**But if the sweetest pain **

**Burning hot through my veins **

****   
When the first bunch of flowers arrive, you grin sheepishly and duck your head down as Gavin calls “FAGGOT” out across the office.   
The beautiful peonies are a soft shade of cream, the petals softer than silk as you breath in their fresh scent. 

Slipping the card out from amongst the stems and break the little wax seal. The words written inside make your chest ache.   
  
_ I made a terrible mistake. _ __   
__   
The second bunch arrives less than forty minutes later, except this bunch consists of bacon rolled up to look like roses. Hank steals four before they even reach your outstretched hands, despite Connor anxiously warning him of the cholesterol levels.   
This card is thick velum, and the words make your heart rate rise enough to attract Connor’s curious stare from a couple desks away.    
  
_ I’ve been thinking about what I can do to make it right. _ ****   
****   
The third delivery attracts attention, the eleven foot tall plush teddy blocking out most of the light above your desk as you sign for it bashfully. Glancing over towards Fowler’s office you expect to be reprimanded for wasting so much time and office space with these antics but find him…. Smiling?    
You look up towards him and squint suspiciously.  __ Hm.

You tear the envelope off the ribbon around the teddy’s arm, peeling back the top and pulling out the letter inside. Ticket stubs fall out and scatter across your desk. They’re all movie dates you’d attended with Allen. Flicking the letter open, his neat penmanship scrawls across the page.    
  
_ I’m a stupid cunt.  _ __   
_ Forgive me.  _ __   
  
Frowning at the obscenity, you tuck the card underneath your coffee mug and try to move on with your day. You glance at the time, silently willing the hand to move faster so you can leave. 

  
  


**Love is torture makes me more sure **

**Only love can hurt like this **

  
  


By the time the fourth delivery makes it’s way over to your desk, you don’t know if you should laugh or cry, the vintage book lying heavy in your hands. It’s an early copy of 100 Years of Solitude, and the awed grunt that comes from Hank’s general direction tells you that you’re not the only one who recognises this as a treasured possession.    
  
The cover is worn along the spine, fabric soft and vaguely rippled beneath your stroking fingertips. 

Flipping open the front cover, you bring it up to your nose to inhale the sweet smell of paper and old fashioned  _ literature _ , only noticing the neat message written on the front page as you go close the book.    
  
_ ‘Intrigued by that enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her’ _

The gift and the passage are.. too much, and tears well up of their own volition as you’re nearly overwhelmed by the surge of love you feel.    
Hugging the book against your chest, you lock eyes with Fowler in his office before giving him a watery smile.

A brisk nod of his head and a sharp twist of his mouth is all you recieve before he turns back towards his desk, starting to type something on his keyboard.

  
  


**Only love can hurt like this **

**Only love can hurt like this **

  
  


The loud ding of the elevator catches your attention, and you watch miserably as Allen strides across the precinct and out into the lobby.   
A quick glance at your screen let you know that you only have a couple minutes left, so you hastily stuff everything into your bag, rushing across the same path that Allen took, bursting out into the frigid Detroit air.    
You must’ve taken too long, though, because David is  _ gone. _ _   
_ The cold air pricks your bare skin like needles as you stoop to pack your belongings into your bag a little bit neater, pulling your DPD issue sweater over your head as you book a taxi to take you home. 

Sliding across the bench seat in the back of the taxi, you let yourself sink back into the cushions sullenly.    
Now would be the perfect time to really think about what to do with Allen, but the only thing you can focus on is the fact that he didn’t even look at you on the way out today. Not even a sideways glance in your direction. 

It’s feels like an age before you get home, and you drag yourself through the front door, not for the first time wondering if you’ve made a terrible mistake by not just hearing Allen out the first time he tried to speak to you.    
  


You put two slices of pizza into the microwave and use the time to get undressed and changed. 

Hanging your holster up by your door, you lean your head against the wall, praying that the sick feeling in your gut to dissipate. 

The flowers were nice. The teddy nicer, considering it was big enough to be a lounge. But the movie stubs… the  _ book.  _ __   
  


Clearly David is more sentimental than you had originally given him credit for. It was obvious that the man had been suffering, if the dark circles underneath his eyes and unshaven jaw was anything to go by. 

More than that though, he seemed truly, hopelessly apologetic. 

Your internal monologue seems to be unable to decipher an answer in regards to what to do, because whilst you love him and crave his tender touch and pretends, how can you  _ forgive  _ him for touching  _ her _ . 

The hot plate burns your hand slightly as your draw it from the microwave, but you barely feel it. Stumbling towards the lounge, mind buzzing tirelessly. 

Your phone lights up beside you on the cushion beside you, and you lift it up to see a text from Connor,    
  


_ ‘Are you home right now?’ _ __   
  


Sliding your plate across to one thigh you balance your phone and a slice of pizza as you type in your response.    
  


_ ‘Certainly am. Going to pay me a visit?’ _ __   
  


It buzzes in your hand before you can even consider setting it back down. 

Damn androids and their ability to text in their heads.    
  


_ ‘Yes.’ _ __   
  


Almost instantaneously afterwards, Connor sends another message. 

_ ‘:)’ _ __   
  


Rolling your eyes and tossing your phone onto the edge of your coffee table as you settle back to eat and decide what to watch, you estimate that it will probably take Connor less than half an hour to get to your place from Hank’s. 

It’s less than twenty minutes later that there’s a knock at your door, and you sigh with great consternation as you heave yourself from the lounge and head towards the noise. 

You realise too late that your attire is less than appropriate, the too short shorts and an old T-shirt of Allen’s that hangs off your frame. 

_ Too late to change now. _

The door catches on your work boot as you open it, and you lean down to remove the obstacle before going to greet Connor. 

Except, it isn’t Connor. 

Allen stands before you, mouth half upturned in a gentle smile, almost hidden behind what looks like a  _ hundred roses _ , a mix of continental reds and yellows that spell out a universal message. 

  
I love you. I’m sorry.  _ _

  
  


**Must have been the deadly kiss **

**Only love can hurt like this **

  
  


“Hey”

Moments pass before you realise that he’s spoken to you, and you bring your gaze back up to his before you remember that  _ this is where you reply.  _

“Oh” you squeak out, and the air in your lungs seems to decompress. 

His smirk turns into a brilliant smile before your eyes.    
  


_ “ _ Can I come in, please _ ?” _

Your inability to form a coherent sentence means you stand in your doorway ogling him like a fool for far too long before you make a quiet noise of acquiescence and move aside to allow him entry to your home. 

****   
The love of your life stands less than three feet from you, and you can smell the crisp scent of his washing powder and cologne over the invading smell of roses.    
The glossy black paper rustles as he fidgets in front of you, the realisation dawning on you that David is  _ anxious _ , your heart softening slightly at the thought.    
  
He lurches forward, thrusting the oversized bunch of flowers directly into your face, petals going into your open mouth at top speed.    
Bringing both arms up and wrapping them around the blooms, you rest your chin atop them as you gaze at the man standing in front of you in your home.    
  
“Why are you here, Dave?” you ask lowly, keeping your eyes on his as he frowns deeply, hands reaching out to you cautiously.    
The entirety of your home looks like it’s been trashed, boxes littering the floor and lounges haphazardly as you halfheartedly attempt to put all of your belongings back where they belong and simultaneously get all of his shit  _ out. _   
He glances behind you, and you follow his gaze to a box near the kitchen that’s filled to the brim with his clothes and miscellaneous items from your bathroom.    
  
_ Awkward. _

****   
  


**Only love can hurt like this **

**Your kisses burning to my skin **

  
  


“I have to explain,” he replies, eyes locked onto your own, “she’s a jeweller, and I thought-”   
  
“You thought if you sucked on her face she’d give you a good price?” you fire back, confused and wounded as the image of her lips against his rises to the front of your mind.    
His eyebrows rise up towards his hairline as he stutters in front of you.    
  
“No! I- fuck, I wanted to buy you an engagement ring, okay?” he blurts out, brow furrowed in annoyance as you snort and go to turn your head away from his burning gaze.    
He grabs your chin firmly with his hand, keeping you still as he speaks directly into your face, warm breath ghosting the tip of your nose and across your cheeks.    
  
“Listen to me. I love you. I loved you before you were even mine. I love you even when you’re a brat,” his eyes soften as your lips form into a pout, unsure if you should pull away from him or burst into tears.    
  
“I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you always.” he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek as tears finally spill over your lashes, hot and furious against your skin. His words from earlier start to finally sink in as your brain repeats  _ jeweller _ and  _ engagement _ back to you at full volume.    
  
“Dave, I-” you start, refusing to lean forward and press your lips against his despite the fact that your entire being demands it.    
“No, stop,” his voice demands, “I agreed to meet her to get you a ring, and I’m a fool-”    
  
“Dave, yes-” you try and squeeze in, his dialogue still continuing over the top of your voice as you pull backwards and out of his grip    
  
“No!” he shouts, startling you and causing the bouquet to fall to the floor in a gentle rustle of petals and paper.    
“Please, shit, give me a chance here” and his voice is loud in your silent apartment as you stand in front of each other, your eyes wide as you watch his chest rise and fall with his panted breaths, “don’t leave me”

  
  


**Only love can hurt like this **

**Only love can hurt like this **

  
  


The shell you’d built up around your heart cracks right down the middle, your chest aching as your resolve to make him suffer as much as you possibly can comes crashing down around you in huge pieces, heart swelling with emotion as tears well up in his eyes.   
Stepping forward you wrap both hands around his wrists, pulling his arms up to put his hands on either side of your face, a laugh leaving you on an exhale.    
His thumbs stroke the velvet skin of your cheeks softly, as he pulls you into his chest, your face squished against him as you breathe in his soothing smell, letting his warmth soak into your broken heart.    
  
You repeat yourself quietly, the words muffled against his clothes, “mi sthed yeths”    
  
His hands drop to your shoulders to pull you away from him as he looks at you like a startled animal, “What?”   
Your smile is slow moving and gentle, spreading across your face in the same way the sun begins its ascent into the sky as your heart begins its journey to being whole again.    
  
“I said yes, you idiot” smiling dumbly up at him, “but only if I never see Aubrey again”   
  
“You-” his eyes search your face frantically before he sweeps you up into his arms in a sweeping hug, “yes!”   
You clench your eyes shut as he spins you on the spot, crushing his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel the hot splash of tears against your skin as you dig your fingertips into the fabric of his jacket on his back.    
  
“No more Aubrey,” he says, and his voice is a rumble against your throat as he speaks into your skin, “I’m so fucking sorry baby”   
  
His arms lower you to the ground gently, and you tilt your head back in order to allow his lips to capture yours, your entire body as light as a feather as you cling to him tightly.    
You cant your head to the side to allow him easier access to your mouth as he invades you with his tongue, teeth nipping at the plush flesh of your bottom lip, one hand sliding down to bring your body closer to him as he claims you with his teeth and tongue.

  
  


**Save me, save me **

  
  


You wrestle with the lapels of his jacket as you try and push it from his shoulders as he backs you up against the arm of your lounge, tearing your mouth away from his so he can lift your shirt up over your head smoothly.    
His lips crash against your shoulder as his jacket hits the floor, and you lift your hips to allow him to slide your shorts down your legs before he lets them drop to the ground.    
  
It takes both your hands to undo the fly of his jeans, one hand slipping inside the waistband of his briefs to pull the thick length of him out into your hand. David grunts into your neck before he brings his lips back up to yours, lifting you up to sit you on the arm of your lounge before positioning himself at your entrance.    
  
“Fuck, not enough time,” he growls into your mouth as he rubs the tip of his cock against your slick heat.    
You’ve been  _ soaked _ since he stepped foot into your home, and not for the first time in your life you’re utterly grateful for how your body seems to react to his presence.    
His pants aren’t even past his ass as he pushes into you, and the decadent slide of him inside you makes you groan loudly, eyes rolling up towards the roof as he gives you a slow thrust to make sure you’re ready.    
  
You struggle to lift your legs up to his waist from this angle, and he lifts you up from your perch with a grunt before he walks you over to the kitchen bench, setting you down before he pushes you back with one hand, the other coming down to rub your clit with his thumb, spreading your wetness across your flesh as he snaps his hips up to yours.    
  
“I-,” he grunts, his fingers pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he rolls his hips into you, “I love you”   
  
Digging your fingers into his shirt you pull him down over you, one hand twisting itself into his hair as you repeat his words back to him breathlessly, sorry you let yourself be kept from his arms for so long.   
Your mouth slides against him in a familiar gesture, all smooth movements and heat as he slows his hips to an easy rock, both arms wrapped around you as if you were likely to disappear. You slip one hand under the collar of his shirt, sliding down his back until you can reach no further, fingertips digging into his skin as you hold him to you.    
  
The angle and the connection behind the act has you shuddering within minutes, torn apart and remade at the same time by his hands and his love, sobbing into his mouth as he holds you close.    
His hands are splayed against your shoulder blades, your ankles crossed at the base of his spine. You consume each other with your mouths, and your entire body is alright with the flames he fans to an inferno inside you.    
  


The damp fabric of his shirt clings to your chest as he ruts into you once, twice more before he cums inside you with a desperate groan, lips leaving your own to rest his forehead against yours, your breath mingling and washing over your face.

**Only love, only love**

**‘Cause only love can hurt like this**

  
  


He slips from your heat with a slick slide, and your walls clench at the sudden emptiness you feel before you drop your feet back to the floor and slide off the bench, the grasp of your hands against his biceps familiar as you lead him back towards the lounge.

Your phone still lies open on the table, the last text message from Connor still on the screen as you make a mental note to thank him at work when you see him. 

Time slips and slows between you as you lay entwined on the lounge, mumbling apologies and explanations back and forth until your eyelids droop, tired and peaceful for the first time in weeks. 

“You know,” David breaks the silence suddenly, “you’re probably the only person who would agree to a question that wasn’t even technically asked.”

Your mouth gapes as you turn your head towards him, the expression on his face impassive as he fixes you with a stare. 

You humph as a smirk eases it’s way onto his features, his hips rolling against your own as he hardens against your thigh, fingers sliding up from your knee to pull your mouth towards him.

“No take-backs”

  
  


**Must have been the deadly kiss.**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> One more prompt scribbled off my list.   
Only five hundred more to go. 
> 
> Paloma Faith - Only Love Can Hurt Like This  
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PaKr9gWqwl4


End file.
